'It all happened so fast,' Storm thought. He ran a servo through the scorched dirt-patch his brother had been standing in but a minute ago. He pulled thunder-shaped lumps from the dirt - evidence of massive electrical discharge having struck the earth.
Storm had been too deep and far away to see what Soundwave had done, but from the sounds, a struggle had echoed throughout the tunnel. Obviously it had been extremely violent, energon-ash had splattered everywhere, reaching stalactites above; and Jetfire had screamed so loud ...there was the smell of flayed wire...and pieces of broken plating.
The stench of ozone gas was everywhere - a sour, burnt chlorine-smell.
Storm began to kick at the scorchmark, his growing emotional-turmoil apparent.
No matter what he said at times.
He never wanted his brother gone.
Not completely.
Not dead.
Storm began to seek a way to cope with the situation, his brother was gone, maybe dead; but he still felt an intense urge to do something, anything!
Quickly he came up with "something" to soothe his spiraling emotion-regulator. He came up with a "stupid-rationalization," - the rationalization being that if he hid the disturbance from view...it would no longer exist! He kicked the energon-ash out of the cave entrance, dispersing the smell and orange paint chips out of the cavern as best he could.
He had to do "something." Anything.
But there was nothing he could think to do...to get his brother back...to make the situation better.
Except.
The cave hadn't been just any cave.
When Storm had ran, he half-expected his brother to follow - but he should've known Jetfire was always too stubborn to back down from anything - even a mech right about to kill him.
Stupid slag-headed Fire.
If they had both ran - if they had both retreated - like their training taught them to do - they would have both made it!
Storm was sure of it!
All the training simulations should've taught Jetfire better; Storm sulked, wanting to direct all his emotions out as anger, to blame his brother's own stupidity for his capture. Storm buried his frustration and guilt through gritted teeth, just like he'd done to that ugly scorchmark.
Storm turned back into the caverns, walking the way he'd intended to lead his brother earlier - the cave wasn't just a cave. He knocked a fist against a boulder and was reminded of how humans treated doors, and then flatly rested his servo against the surface for a few seconds - it flashed a positive confirmation beep and the boulder flickered away, reveling it to be nothing but a hologram.
It soon flicked back to normal behind him.
A hidden path winded deeper into the cave and Storm began running, not wanting to waste anymore time. He came to a laboratory door, one of many hidden throughout Earth's mountains. He waved a servo in front of the camera of obvious cybertronian-make and tapped repeatedly the button to talk through the comms-speaker.
"You are late."
"I know, I'm sorry! Fire got captured, and Starscream never showed up!"
"Hmmm, yes how disappointing; I saw on my hidden cameras. I expected Jetfire at the very least, to run. You two could've used the holographic boulder to hide behind."
The lab door slid open with a rusty-buckle and out stepped Shockwave, his yellow-optic seemed to discolor into an ominous orange in the low-light environment of the cave. "We will discuss rescue operations this meeting. Come."
"And what about Starscream? Did something happen? Did Megatron finally kill ma-ker?" Storm gasped as he spat out all his questions at once.
That was one thing Shockwave never seemed to mind - bots asking endless questions. Storm suspected he liked answering them, no matter how mundane. 'Perhaps it makes him feel smart.' Storm thought.
Shockwave clicked and hummed to confirm he was amused, but no EM field ever flickered outward from the bot - he had no true emotions running throughout his processor. Shockwave simply mimicked what he thought was appropriate for a conversation. It was unnerving to most bots, but Storm was just glad to find someone who was so nonchalant about horrible situations. Shockwave was a level-headed bot who would make a plan to rescue his brother in the most efficient, safest way possible; other bots would just say that the drawn up plan would be "too dangerous" or "too time-intensive," stupid scrap excuses like that!
Storm ran into the base past Shockwave, who wasn't alarmed in the slightest; the jet-twins where more familiar with Shockwave's hideouts on Earth than even he was.
"What?! There's no time for tests Shockwave, are you crazy!? You have to save my brother!"
"Correction: There's always time for tests." Shockwave paused, to make a point. "And. I am. not. crazy."
"Soundwave got him! You saw the cameras, you have to..." Storm trailed off as Shockwave raised his arm-cannon towards the ceiling, as if raising a servo, a common gesture he used to "politely call for quiet," during the meet-ups held at every opportunity. Waving the cannon around was the only thing that shut Starscream up , on such occasions.
"Don't worry Storm, Jetfire isn't dead, just captured. Ensuring your brother's safety will be easy, as the Decepticons have already fully accepted me back into their ranks."
"Already!? That's crazy! Why would the Decepticons let you back in after like, four million years? Of absence mind you."
Shockwave stewed darkly, his servo and cannon clacked together with a strange stilted-jitter - as if he was reviewing unpleasant memory-banks. "Please, do not mention that number again. To think of the time spent... "wasted "...causes me processor-interruptions."
"Right sooo sorry ," Storm snarked. "Now, about my brother?"
" Jetfire will be fine ; it is a close-promise, the closest I can promise when subjected to the unpredictable elements of war."
Storm vented a sigh of relief. A cold-logic bot like Shockwave promising anything meant it was as good as a guarantee.
He dropped into a chair, which was attached to the ever-familiar meeting table. It was one of the many tables scattered across the planet where Storm, Jetfire, Shockwave, and Starscream all discussed the plans of both the Autobots and the Deceptions alike.
Altogether, they technically formed a third neutral faction of cybertronian-allegiance named V.O.S, short for "Vigil of Sparks," which was founded by the surviving civilians of the fallen city-state of Vos. Several colonies of Vosnians had scattered within a solar system they had also dubbed "Vos," and the singular Dyson sphere sun within the system, which powered all the colonies, had also been dubbed "Vos."
All that "Vos" must've been funny at first... to some boltheads.
At least the moon he lived on before was named "Vox."
Storm had thought it was all so spectacularly stupid the first time he'd heard about it all.
But Vos was only a faction on Earth in name and spirit. The survivors of Cybertron weren't about to waste their precious resources on something as ridiculous as a long dead civil war that had ended six million years ago in their historical records.
And with Jetfire captured and Starscream absent, it was up to Storm and Shockwave to make their latest plans.
Shockwave had poured Storm a glass of high-grade energon, just a little, just enough to appreciate the taste and fritz-ey-electric-texture. He struggled to not drink it down in one giant gulp, as it wasn't often anyone in the Autobots drank high-grade, nevermind a low-ranking mechling like him. It was a rare, delightful pink nectar and Storm wanted to savor it.
But with the cool look Shockwave was giving him, he had second thoughts about drinking it.
"You didn't poison this did you?"
It was a valid concern as he'd just made a deal with Shockwave; show him the progress of his "powers" and he would get a cup of high-grade as a reward. It was a good deal Storm thought, even when he knew of Shockwave's infamous reputation amongst basically everyone.
Despite all reason to the contrary, he trusted Shockwave. He was the exception to the rule because Shockwave was his uncle and surrogate-father, and while Storm wouldn't call his sparklinghood perfect, Shockwave had kept him alive while others had died.
'That's enough to earn trust, right?' he asked himself.
All in all, Shockwave seemed amused by Storm's hesitation, and he swiveled his head for "No," even after Storm had already taken the tiniest sips of high-grade energon. He didn't blame Storm for being cautious - "suspicion" was simply the most logical response to have in regards to himself. He was pleased to note into Jetstorm's file that the mechling possessed a healthy understanding of "self-preservation," unlike his brother Jetfire, who hadn't run away from Soundwave earlier.
He also noted "distinct cowardice" into Jetstorm's personal file; hopefully Storm never found it.
Shockwave hadn't considered it before, but as he reviewed the footage of Jetfire's kidnapping, he noticed how the mechling displayed a distinct lack of fear, even in the face of overwhelming peril. Jetfire had still been scared, obviously, but not in the same way Storm had pitifully flopped over to die.
He hypothesized that Jetfire would integrate into the Decepticon ranks well, despite his Autobot history.
Interesting.
But there was no need to tell his brother, of course.
His brother expected Jetfire to be rescued.
"Ahhh worry not, my most innovative experiments aren't for you nor your brother. I have plenty of other bots to pick from for test subjects...and nourishment."
"Test subjects...like who?" Storm leaned forward, not at all believing Shockwave was spoiled for choice when it came to subjects.
"I have an ample supply of spark-chambers; the Decepticons source me with any vehicons of my choosing. It is very convenient. They do not question when the subject inevitably goes missing."
Storm scoffed. He didn't believe for a moment Shockwave would be forever satisfied with only Vehicons to fest and to test upon.
But of course, both of them were long used to eating whatever low-grade trash they got their servos on.
'Maybe I should become a Decepticon and help myself to some extra sparks?' he mused, hungry more than ever.
But he knew Shockwave; the scientist would never accept eating vehicons indefinitely. It was just a matter of time before Shockwave lost his interest in his supply of test subjects and took a risk. A bloodthirsty one.
Storm predicated there would be a lapse in judgement that would kill a Decepticon officer at the soonest opportunity. Shockwave liked to believe he was a machine of pure reason, cold-logic, and purposeful-impulse, but he was also an irrational, hungry sparkeater, no matter his mental-habits.
Storm had seen what Shockwave was like when he was starving, and he'd yet to see a more merciless creature . Storm recalled memories of slaughter, which rattled around ominously within his processor, as the high-grade energon began to kick in.
"Hmmm, and what about Starscream?" asked Storm, his voice scratchy with a whisper. "Are you going to start testing on him again, now that you finally have all your labs finished on Earth?" Already the high-grade had thrown him into a drunken stupor; he was asking questions he normally wouldn't. After a moment, Storm tiredly smiled across the meeting-table, nodding towards Shockwave, as if he had already received an answer he liked. But Shockwave hadn't spoken.
Shockwave moved his optic bizarrely, the light rolling like a beaten egg-yolk. "I don't intend to harm Starscream." His honesty was cold and calculating, nor reassuring in the slightest. "But he is the only bot alive who has the ability to make Allspark fragments, and it is a skill that should be preserved for future generations, by any means necessary." He clasped his servos together, as if cartoonishly plotting. "You understand, don't you Little Shock?"
Storm sneered, the random call-back to his sparklinghood nickname had been uncalled for.
"Don't call me that!" he spat. Shockwave said not a word.
Perhaps it was the high-energon, or his emotions running wild from Jetfire's capture, but Storm felt something break inside him.
He remembered, all too well.
"Little Shock." He'd been called.
That name had turned his sparklinghood upside down into a grief-stricken mess, and it had almost killed him, down in the deep dark tunnels of Cybertron. His many siblings had grown jealous of his name "Little Shock," wrongly assuming it had meant that he'd been Shockwave's favorite sparkling.
He'd been ostracized.
Hated.
From the rest.
Back down in the deep dark tunnels of Cybertron, not even Jetfire had played or talked to him then.
Having been jealous like the rest, of "Little Shock."
They had tried to eat him.
Once.
He'd never forget.
But then Shockwave had saved him, many times, from the cannibalistic ire of his sibling-swarm...perhaps he really was Shockwave's favorite, but it still had been a ridiculous conclusion for his siblings to have made all that long ago.
Shockwave didn't play favorites; he couldn't, for it would've invited bias into his precious processor.
Storm hated Shockwave for making his sparklinghood a living slag-pit.
He always would.
Forever.
He had promised.
To himself.
Shockwave was a creepy-aft mech with not an iota of emotion twitching throughout his wires.
Storm wasn't stupid.
Shockwave was a machine of monstrous rationality.
He had to remind himself.
And Shockwave, his surrogate-father, didn't love him.
And his siblings, Storm freely hated.
Each of his brothers were untrustworthy, dimwitted, and easily forgettable - including Jetfire.
Storm didn't like to be reminded of how "little" and helpless he used to be, as a sparkling. He used to idolized Shockwave when he had been small, and now staring into his near-empty pink energon-cube, he had a hard time remembering why.
In the end, Shockwave would always be regarded as the "tolerable but creepy-aft" uncle.
Bang bang bang bang!
Whatever direction the conversation was going to turn was swiftly forgotten.
Starscream had arrived, late as ever.
Bang bang bang bang! The comm-speaker at the entrance Storm had entered earlier had crackled to life.
"Let me in! Let me in! What the slag-scrap happened out there?!"
Bang bang bang bang!
The recording connected to the camera took over the central monitor.
Starscream looked ready to maul the camera; he flashed his sharp-dented against the camera, and already a minute crack had permeated the now half-static recording on screen. Shockwave stoically made a note to have it replaced, sending a notice to a maintenance-drone, as making small, semi-superficial repairs wasn't often priority on his "to-do" lists.
Bang bang bang bang! The noise persisted. Starscream was desperate to get inside and he did not stop his assault against the laboratory doors.
Storm for a moment, was confused as to why Starscream hadn't been let in immediately; until Shockwave gestured to his not-so-empty cube of high-grade.
Quickly, Storm drank down the rest of his contraband; he wasn't about to let Starscream know that he had gotten drunk. Yet still, even with the plan in motion to "not let Starscream know," he panicked!
Storm threw his energon-glass carelessly into a corner, under a dense and deluded hope of disposing of it swiftly.
'Crrzzk!' Evidence of pink-glass shattered everywhere.
A general air of malaise took hold of the entire room.
Storm looked surprised that his experimental tactic hadn't worked.
If Shockwave could look livid, that was what he presented himself to be. He glared from the corner of his optic at Storm and the pink-mess simultaneously; but like how Shockwave dealt with inane things, he said not a word, but his expectations remained consistent.
Eventually something clicked inside Storm's intoxicated processor and he looked mortified as he rushed to clean up the mess, and the glass swiftly disappeared into the lab's trash-compactor, and any lingering stains smeared away underneath a boot.
Bang bang bang bang!
Storm nodded nervously to Shockwave, confirming the mess was clean as if he was a startled, bashful sparkling. Shockwave hummed, annoyed - somethings never changed about bots.
He entered in the commands to open the entrance-doors and he watched on hallway monitors as Starscream tore down the hallway like a crazed..."something"...
Shockwave didn't have time to compare Starscream to anything, as the Decepticon Air Commander burst into the room, his wings snapping dangerously behind him like twisted, smacking roots; mirroring his twitching, clamping and unclamping fists.
"You were supposed to watch them!" Starscream shrieked, the sound a strange warbling bellow.
"Why is there burnt energon everywhere!? At the entrance?" Starscream walked up to Shockwave, livid. His claws held forward, as if ready to strike him, like a spiraled snake. "What happened?! What did you do?"
"Nothing. Sit down." Shockwave gestured to a chair, his tone suggesting not a care. "I will show you what happened. My cameras recorded everything, as always."
Starscream hesitated, taking any sort of order went against his innate personality, and with Starscream's emotions running high; he wasn't exactly in his most logical state-of-mind.
As was normal.
After all, Starscream always assumed the worst.
And the current situation was no exception.
It was simply his nature.
Always, and forever.
Starscream, utilizing every ounce of his willpower, slid down into a chair. He breathed deeply, as his fans worked to established equilibrium back into his systems. His wings pinned sharply against his back, like loaded springs.
"Jetstorm why did you attack your brother?" Starscream asked suddenly. Storm looked surprised, but the high-grade energon in his system made him feel particularly pathetic. He was the type of bot to always look guilty, even when he was not.
"N-no!" Genuinely surprised, he jumped up - almost stumbling against the table's surface from his drunkenness. Instead, Storm slammed back into his chair. He desperately tried to compose himself, but Starscream had already rushed to his side, holding Storm's head up by his chin.
"What happened to you?" Starscream muttered, and Storm knew then he'd been found.
Storm gripped the arms of his chair, grateful his servos had something to hold onto; else, he might've lost his composure in front of Starscream.
He was shivering, the metal of his frame unreasonably cold as Starscream looked him over. Did Starscream look mad? Or was he concerned? It was hard to tell.
Storm tried to desperately covey that he was sober, to still his frame and to appear perfectly fine and normal. Starscream didn't let him look away, holding him steady. Seconds ticked by of Starscream's accusatory stare and finally Storm watched as Starscream stepped away and his expression became dangerously blank.
Beneath that face smoldered a pit of fury.
"What did you do to him!?" Starscream suddenly turned around, facing Shockwave with burning thrusters. "Why is he shaking?!" He lashed out with his claws, cutting into Shockwave's purple shoulder, revealing silver lines of metal as the paint was sliced away.
Shockwave had frozen, perhaps dumbfounded, as he simply watched as Starscream decorated his surface with minute cuts and superficial dents.
"I'll scrap you! I'll slag you, you aft-fragger!"
The Earth-terms "angry-mother-bear," flashed automatically in Storm's image-compiler as appropriate comparison as he drunkenly tried to decipher Starscream's screeching. For the sake of a distraction, he began to tap on the table, nonsensically with his claws.
"Why is he playing with the table? You drugged him, for frags-sake!"
Shockwave held his servo and cannon upward in the "universal sign of peace," but Starscream held little comprehension of the concept, if ever. Starscream eventually stopped, having concluded that scratching Shockwave to death wasn't practical, and his optics flashed a keen red as he switched tactics.
He jumped backwards, ever so slightly, and pulled no quarter as he punched Shockwave hard, flinging himself into the base of Shockwave's optic. Shockwave swayed as if in pain and allowed the momentum of the hit to tip him backwards, but he stayed standing as he took in Starscream's weak, scattered and inefficient hits. Then, Starscream fixated on Shockwave's vulnerable optic, and set on punching it over and over until the bright yellow-light eventually shattered. It had been a tactic that had been successful before.
Shockwave couldn't allow that.
Such a foolish act.
Such a simple mistake.
He only had the one optic, and becoming blind would be horribly inconvenient. Neither Storm nor Starscream could be expected to repair him in a timely manner, not in their current emotional-states.
He wouldn't tolerate it.
Not again.
Shockwaves servos remained raised in the universal sign of peace, until he suddenly slammed downwards into a devastating headlock, hooking Starscream by his belly-plates against his protruding armored chest.
The more Starscream struggled to weasel free, the worse he melded against Shockwave's chassis. A fist closed around his neck, not allowing Starscream any leeway to peel away.
If Starscream slipped away now, it was unlikely Shockwave would get another chance to grab him anytime soon.
And Shockwave recognized an opportunity when he saw one.
"Starscream." Shockwave whispered, and Starscream froze at the uncharacteristic soft-spoken tone. "Remember to be reasonable when you wake up." And with a sickening slam Shockwave's hand-cannon impacted against Starscream's head, bending and denting audial-receptors flat against his helm. Starscream had no time to breath nor to scream as the heavy cannon impacted his head.
Again
And again.
And again.
And finally with a wet crack, he went limp, slack against Shockwave's grasp. For a few seconds, Shockwave looked at Starscream, hanging him outward by his neck like a gutted creature.
Unceremoniously, Shockwave dropped Starscream onto the table, serving as an uncouth berth.
Storm had watched the entire altercation in a drunken stupor. The fight had felt like an eternity and yet it had not lasted even a half a minute before Starscream had been subdued.
Storm jumped from his chair, grasping Starscream's limp body.
'He's dead, he's dead!' he mentally-screamed, not daring to make a sound. For a few agonizing seconds, he only stared at Starscream, hapless to do anything.
He wasn't crying.
He wasn't scared.
He wasn't a coward.
Storm ran his shaking servos across Starscream's chassis, afraid the bot would drain into the dark crippling-grey of the dead. He spotted a touch of teal leaking from Starscream's belly-plates and he froze as Shockwave spoke.
"Now, about those tests."